I Married the Boss!

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I Married the Boss! Page 2

by Laura Anthony


  And it was postmarked from Phoenix.

  Sophia caught her breath. That could only mean one thing.

  Michael Barrington had come home!

  Excited, she leapt from her chair and clutching the precious paperweight in her hand, tore down the hallway after Mike.

  Why had seeing Mrs. Rex Michael Barrington III scribbled over Sophia’s notepad affected him so strongly? Mike shook his head. He supposed it was because he’d thought she was different, but it seemed Sophia Shepherd was as shallow as all the other women he’d ever known. Fortune hunters, interested not in the size of a man’s heart, but only in the size of his wallet.

  Disheartened, he stepped into the elevator and pressed the button for the basement floor which housed the mail room. Sophia’s letters were still in his hand. The paper smelled of her perfume. Something fresh and floral. Wildflowers. Sweet, bright and full of sunshine. Mike raised the envelopes to his nose and inhaled deeply before tucking them securely into his back pocket.

  Normally he was very self-confident when it came to dealing with women, but whenever he got around Sophia, he felt like an inept birdbrain. He fumbled, he stumbled, he stuck his foot in his mouth and said things he didn’t mean. Mike sighed. He shouldn’t allow himself to go gaga over her. A woman as beautiful as Sophia could never be interested in just a guy from the mail room.

  Unfortunately.

  Mike shrugged aside the disappointment surging through his stomach. He’d expected so much more from her. Hell, he’d hoped... Yes, stupidly, he’d hoped. He knew the way the world really worked. Had known for most of his thirty-six years. Even though Sophia was attracted to him, the doodling on her notepad was proof enough. Sophia Shepherd was angling to land herself a millionaire. A millionaire she’d never even met. Obviously it didn’t matter to her what kind of person Rex Michael Barrington III was, only that he possessed a large bank account.

  The elevator door slid open. Head down, Mike stepped out and strolled through the corridor toward the mail room. Behind him, he heard the second elevator give a muted ping as it, too, opened at the basement level.

  “Mike!”

  He stopped, turned.

  Breathlessly Sophia dashed after him, calling his name and waving her hand. The bangle bracelets at her wrist jangled merrily. “Mike, please wait up.”

  He tried to deny the kick of excitement that rushed through him at the sight of her flushed face but could not. Sophia’s curly, shoulder-length blond hair ruffled lightly against her high cheekbones. Her blue eyes glowed with a provocative inner light. The silky material of her. white blouse gently accentuated the curve of her breasts, and the red skirt that rested two inches above her knees showcased her exquisitely shaped legs. She wore a soft red scarf knotted jauntily at her neck, which gave her the coy appearance of a 1950s movie star.

  Hope rose anew. Perhaps he’d misjudged her. Maybe she’d come to take him up on his offer of lunch. Maybe she wasn’t above dating the office mailman after all.

  “Mike,” she said, holding a glass cat in her palm. “Where did this come from?”

  “I...uh...” Had she guessed already? “What is it?”

  “This was in the package you brought me.”

  “Is there something wrong?”

  “No. There’s nothing wrong.”

  “What’s the matter? Don’t you like it?”

  “Of course I like it.” Her eyes danced.

  Mike’s spirits soared. He’d pleased her! “Are you sure?”

  “How could I not like it?” She breathed. “Michael Barrington sent it to me.”

  Oh. So that’s what she thought. Mike felt his face muscles sag. They were standing to one side of the passageway, a half-dozen feet from the frosted glass door of the mail room. The corridor lights cast a pale shadow over Sophia, highlighting her cheekbones, enhancing the shining glow in her eyes.

  “When you got here this morning, where was the package located?” she inquired, oblivious to his fresh disappointment.

  “In the mailbag. The box was brought in overnight from the post office.”

  “But there was no return address on it.” Sophia chattered on, shredding his hopes with her unbridled enthusiasm for her absent boss. “Yet the package was postmarked from Phoenix. That means Michael is in town, doesn’t it?”

  “Are you sure ‘the Third’ sent it to you?” Mike asked, referring to the mystery man that no one in the office had ever seen but whom everyone seemed to be enamored of. That confirmed Mike’s long-held conviction that rich men were always more popular than poor ones.

  “What do you mean?” Sophia’s brow furrowed. “Of course he sent it to me.”

  “You said there was no return address. Did you find a card from him inside the package?”

  Slowly Sophia shook her head. “No, but read the inscription.” She turned the cat over and thrust it under his nose.

  But Mike didn’t have to read it, he knew what had been inscribed there.

  “Maybe somebody else might think you’re a good secretary. Could be the big boss, Rex Barrington II himself,” Mike ventured, wanting—no, aching—to take her into his arms and kiss those lips. Lips that undoubtedly tasted better than ripe strawberries and chilled champagne.

  Foolish move, Mike, he mentally chided himself. Sophia doesn’t want you. This girl is only interested in Michael Barrington and all that his name connotes. Money. Fame. Fortune.

  “Rex Barrington has never given me anything on my birthday before,” she said: “Why would he start now? But if it’s not him or Michael, who could it be?”

  “Just about anybody.”

  “Like whom?”

  “Me, for instance.” Mike kept talking even when it would have been prudent to shut up. “I think you’re a terrific secretary, Sophia. Believe me, I do get around this building. I know who’s efficient at their job and who’s not.”

  “You?” she whispered, her blue eyes rounding in surprise. “You sent me the paperweight?”

  He shrugged.

  “I don’t get it.” She hitched in a sharp breath.

  “What’s to get?”

  “Why would you send me a present?”

  “It’s your birthday and I know how much you like cats.”

  “How did you know it was my birthday?” she asked. “I don’t make a point of announcing it.”

  “A little bird told me.”

  “You had no right to give me a present.” Sophia spoke harshly, stunning Mike with her strong reaction. He had thought she would be pleased with the gift.

  “I...”

  “No right at all.”

  She blinked. Was she crying? Mike felt like a heel. He hadn’t intended on hurting her.

  “Sophia...” He reached out to her.

  “Just forget it,” she snapped, and shied from his touch.

  What was she so angry about? Mike frowned. Now it was his turn to feel hurt. “Fine. If you don’t like the paperweight then pitch the damn thing in the trash.”

  “You wanted me to think Michael Barrington sent it to me, didn’t you?” Her slender fingers curled around the glass cat she held clinched at her side.

  “No.” Yes.

  A furious expression lined her face. Her eyes shot liquid fire. Her mouth was screwed up into a tight pucker.

  “You’re a jerk, you know that.”

  “But you want me,” Mike heard himself say even though he regretted the words before they were out of his mouth. He was proving her contention that he was a jerk, and yet he couldn’t seem to halt himself. “Admit it. You’re pining away for your boss because he’s got money, but I’m the one who really turns you on.”

  “In your dreams, mailman.”

  That one word, spoken with such disdain, did it. Before he knew what he was planning, Mike firmly grasped Sophia’s shoulder with one hand and tilted her chin upward with the other.

  He lowered his head until his lips were a hairbreadth from hers. Her chest rose and fell in self-righteous indignation, but o
ddly enough she did not pull away.

  Their breathing came in unison, hot and heavy.

  Sophia stared at him, torn between slapping his presumptuous face and raising her lips for him to kiss. A thrill shot through her, humming against her nerve endings with amazing intensity. The way his hand cradled her chin, the manner in which his fingers gripped her shoulder, stirred passions inside Sophia she’d never known were there. Passions that had no place in her logical, well-ordered life.

  Mike was right. She did want him. At least her body did. And that realization brought twin wheels of shame to her cheeks.

  More than anyone she knew the price of unchecked passion. Her own mother had paid that dear fee and it was a price too exorbitant for any woman to pay.

  How could she be so attracted to this lean muscled male when her heart truly belonged to Michael Barrington? How could her own body betray her this way?

  But despite her inner protests, she could not deny that she longed to feel Mike’s lips pressed to hers, heated and demanding. To feel his tongue glide along her mouth. To experience the movement of his body against hers. He would be an accomplished lover—Sophia had no doubts about his prowess.

  Everyone in the office knew Mike had a way with women. He attracted members of the opposite sex the way clover attracted honeybees. He possessed that bad-boy persona that women adored. He was a rambler, a rover, a wanderer. He could show you a good time but little else. It was rumored around the office that he stayed out late and frequently attended wild parties. He rode a Harley-Davidson to work for heaven’s sake and was even now wearing ankle-length leather boots.

  He was the epitome of everything her mother had been warning her against for the past twenty-nine years.

  And still she wanted him. With a need so strong, Sophia could taste the metallic mustiness of her passion.

  His green eyes drilled into her like piercing spikes, angling down deep into her soul. Sophia sucked in air.

  Think about Michael Barrington, she ordered herself.

  Except she seemed unable to focus on anything except for the visage of the man before her. Michael Barrington wasn’t here. Mike was. It wasn’t Michael’s lips promising a glimpse of undreamed of pleasure. It wasn’t Michael’s fingers igniting her skin nor was it Michael who had remembered her birthday.

  It was Mike. The office mailman. A man with no future and no ambition. Mike, the self-professed rolling stone.

  Think about your father.

  That thought had the effect of ice water thrown down her back. Sophia gulped and blinked up at Mike, the spell he’d spun broken by unhappy memories.

  “Let go of me,” she said firmly.

  Instantly Mike took his hands off her and stepped back as if released from a hypnotic spell of his own. “I...I’m sorry,” he apologized huskily. “I never should have touched you.”

  “Apology accepted,” she whispered, knowing she was as much to blame as Mike. She should have made it perfectly clear from the very beginning that she wasn’t available.

  “I didn’t mean to offend you, Sophia. I just wanted to give you something nice for your birthday.”

  “It was a sweet thought. I didn’t mean to snap at you. I guess I was just disappointed.”

  “Disappointed that the gift was from me and not from Michael Barrington?”

  She nodded wordlessly. Darn it, why was he suddenly being so understanding? She wanted to dislike him. It would make turning him down so much easier. On legs shaky as a newborn colt’s, Sophia turned and stumbled away, the gray glass cat still clutched in her hand, a talisman of frayed daydreams and hungry passions that had to be ignored.

  Chapter Two

  “Chemistry,” Olivia McGovern Hunter, one of Sophia’s closest friends, replied when Sophia finished telling her the story of what had transpired between her and Mike in the basement corridor.

  They were sitting in the employee lounge on their lunch break, snacking on wedges of mozzarella cheese melted atop whole wheat crackers, with crisp apple slices on the side.

  The break room, large and airy, was Sophia’s favorite spot in the whole building. The floor tiles were done in the deep salmon color of an Arizona sunset and the walls were pure white. The chairs were sky blue and several strategically placed potted plants accentuated the clean decor. Although there was an outdoor dining area with redwood tables just beyond the double glass doors, the late-August heat prevented the two women from venturing beyond the air-conditioning.

  “But I don’t want chemistry,” Sophia protested vehemently. “It’s too chaotic.”

  “Tell me about it.” Olivia grinned. “Chemistry will get you into trouble every time.”

  Affectionately Olivia stroked her expanded belly. She was due to deliver her first baby in less than a month and would be taking maternity leave by the end of the week. Sophia felt a twinge of sadness. She would miss her friend’s sensible advice.

  Sophia eyed Olivia nervously. An unplanned pregnancy was exactly the reason Sophia was determined to stay far away from passion. Olivia had been lucky in that respect. Although Olivia hadn’t been married when she’d gotten pregnant, the baby’s father, Lucas Hunter, had been a stand-up guy who believed in doing the right thing. Plus, Olivia and Lucas had much more going for them than mere chemistry. They were crazy in love with each other. Their adoration was easy to see.

  “I’d rather have things nice and comfortable. I’ll take solid and dependable over chemistry any day,” Sophia declared.

  “I used to think like that,” Olivia said with a faraway expression in her eyes. “Until Lucas. He changed my whole outlook on life. He showed me the awesome power of true love. Trust me on this, Sophia, love beats stability any day.”

  “But I’m determined to make Michael Barrington fall in love with me,” Sophia whispered, glancing around to make sure they were the only ones in the room. They’d taken an early lunch and the rest of the office had yet to descend upon the employee lounge. “I intend to have both chemistry and security.”

  “Sophia,” Olivia chided, “you can’t make someone fall in love with you.”

  “Well, he might already be in love with me,” she said defensively. “You don’t know that he’s not.”

  “You’ve never even laid eyes on the man,” Olivia pointed out, delicately nibbling a cracker. “What if he’s...well...rather unattractive?”

  “I don’t care what he looks like,” Sophia replied. “I love him for his personality, not for his looks. Olivia, you should see some of the sweet e-mail messages he sends. He’s considerate and hardworking, kind and devoted to his job.”

  “And in the two years you’ve worked here have you ever seen him around?”

  “No.”

  “That’s because this company is the most important thing in his life. Stanley Whitcomb told me Michael has been in Germany for ten years and almost never comes home to see his father. Not even for the holidays. Now, honestly, Sophia, would you really want a man like that?”

  “I need someone that I know can take care of me,” Sophia admitted. “A man who can assume responsibility for paying the bills. I can’t end up like my mother. I won’t!”

  “Okay.” Olivia spread her hands. “Let’s say you did marry Michael Barrington. How are you going to feel five or ten years down the road when you’re raising the kids by yourself? Oh sure, you’re living in the lap of luxury. Big house, fancy car, all the jewelry you can wear, but where’s your husband? At the office. Or on a plane. Or in some foreign country closing the next deal. Always on the go. Always working.”

  Sophia crinkled her nose. “It doesn’t have to be like that.”

  “Be careful what you wish for.” Olivia shook a knowing finger. “You just might get it.”

  “You’re the second person who’s said that to me today,” she said, glumly thinking of Mike.

  “Remember, Sophia, you deserve the best life has to offer, and that includes a man who loves you. A man who will be your lover, your confidant, your friend. You
deserve what I have found with Lucas. Not just a fat wallet, or some disembodied voice over the telephone, but a real-life partner.”

  “I can make him love me like that,” Sophia insisted, raising her voice to emphasize her resolve. “One way or another, I am going to marry Michael Barrington.”

  As fate would have it, Mike the mailman picked that exact moment to walk into the break room. Sophia’s words bounced off the walls. She cringed.

  Without a sound, Mike headed for the coffeepot. For what seemed like an eternity he puttered with sugar and creamer, opening packets, stirring his coffee.

  Had he heard her? It was one thing for him to see the doodling on her notepad. That might mean she was just a silly romantic. But to have him hear her declaring she was going to marry Michael Barrington, well that was a different matter entirely. What if he spread the gossip around the office? What if it got back to Michael himself?

  Olivia stared at Sophia, her eyes wide. No one spoke.

  The refrigerator door whispered open. Nibbling her bottom lip, Sophia finally dared to peek around at Mike. He was rummaging in the refrigerator, his unbelievably cute backside wagging in the air as he bent over.

  Glancing at her watch, Olivia cleared her throat. “I’ve got to go, Soph. My break is over.”

  Panicked at the thought of being left alone in the room with Mike, Sophia clamped a hand on Olivia’s arm. “Please don’t go,” she mouthed silently.

  Olivia hesitated.

  Sophia placed her palms together in imitation of a prayer.

  Her friend nodded.

  Mike plucked a brown paper bag from the refrigerator and strolled across the break room toward them. Did the man ever move in a hurry? she wondered. He moved with the casual nonchalance of a man who had no worries, nor obligations or pressing deadlines. A man at ease in his own skin. He took the chair nearest Sophia, turned it around backward and straddled it.

  Helplessly, Sophia’s eyes were drawn to his powerful thighs rippling beneath the material of his tan chinos. Unbidden, she imagined those thighs completely unclothed and wrapped around her waist. Yikes! She needed an icicle shower.

 

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